


Why Don't We Get Closer?

by Mother_Hen



Category: The Aurora Cycle - Amie Kaufman & Jay Kristoff
Genre: Bad Flirting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Late Night Conversations, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21624064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_Hen/pseuds/Mother_Hen
Summary: Honestly, I’m exhausted. I can’t think of anything better than a solid 12-hour coma. But at the same time, I can’t stand the thought of being alone right now. After all, it’s the loneliness that will kill you, not the bad guys or interstellar space travel. So I knock and open the door. “Hey, Legolas.”
Relationships: Kaliis Gilwraeth/Aurora Jie-Lin O'Malley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	Why Don't We Get Closer?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song “Closer” by Elephante ft. Bishop.

It’s late, and the ship is filled with restlessness.

  
We’d managed to escape Octavia III today, but I wouldn’t call that a victory. After all, we came out one short. I can tell Tyler hasn’t stopped thinking about her - Scarlett, either. They’d likely be on the brig all night, staring out at the void, remembering arms covered in wings and flowers sprouting out of eyes.

  
“This defeat is a victory,” Cat said. This sure doesn’t feel like victory.

  
I don’t know where I’m going. I just need to get away from their sorrow, from their guilt. I have enough of my own, thank you.

  
Towards the end of the hall, a door is cracked open, light shining onto the floor through a narrow slat. Kal’s room. I peek in.

  
Kal is sitting on the bed, facing away from me, undoing his braids. The first two are already undone, with the hair on his right side falling almost to his waist in kinks from the braids. The third is pulled over his shoulder so he can take the fastening off the end of it and the other two are still done. For once, he’s not wearing his Aurora Legion jacket. Instead, he’s down to the red shirt all Tanks wear underneath. He looks peaceful, even though wariness is etched in every line of his body.

  
If this were a movie, there would be some sort of gentle background music to fill up the silence in this moment. But this is real life - there is no background music. There’s only the faint hum of the ship. The sound of myself breathing, so soft only I can hear it. In real life, there’s no way to skip to the end to see if everything will be okay. No way to pause and catch your bearings.

  
Honestly, I’m exhausted. I can’t think of anything better than a solid 12-hour coma. But at the same time, I can’t stand the thought of being alone right now. After all, it’s the loneliness that will kill you, not the bad guys or interstellar space travel. So I knock and open the door. “Hey, Legolas.”

  
Kal looks over his shoulder at me, then turns around to face me. “Aurora.”

  
“That’s a good look for you,” I say, teasingly.

  
He smirks. “I assure you, I am as deadly as always, be’shmai.”

  
“Sure, sure.” I glance around the room. It’s tiny, like all of ours are, with barely enough room for a bed, a chair, and a small desk that doubles as a storage compartment. Kal’s pretty tall, but the bed is low enough that if I stood right in front of him, he’d have to look up at me. (Sure, not much, but he would.) The room is as spartan as I would have expected from him, except for a uniglass on the edge of the desk and a hairbrush next to him on the bed.

  
“You can come in-”

  
“You can call me Auri, you-”

  
We both freeze. I motion to him. “You first.”

  
“You can come in if you would like to,” he says. We’re both speaking softly now, like we’re horses that will spook if we’re too loud. He’s looking at me, hands in his lap. A few days ago, I wouldn’t have been able to read his expression at all, but right now I can see some caution in his eyes. Something about the set of his brow, like he’s almost afraid to ask. He should look ridiculous, with half his hair in braids and the other half a wild, white mess, but instead, he looks soft, almost vulnerable.

  
I move across the room in just a few steps and lever myself up to sit on the desktop. The halls are drafty from the vents, so the door slowly swings shut behind me. Kal goes back to deftly undoing his braids, his hair casting shadows on his face.

  
I swing my feet. “I was going to say, you can call me Auri. Actually, scratch that, please do call me Auri. Nobody ever calls me Aurora unless I’m in trouble.” Can you blame me for wanting a short, simple name? My full name is Aurora Jie-Lin O’Malley, for cake’s sake! Actually, between Kal, Fin, and I, we have a mouthful of names on this team.

  
“I will keep that in mind,” he says. He winces as his fingers snag in a tangle. When he can’t pull it apart, his brows furrow and he frowns at it like it will magically detangle if he glares hard enough.

  
“I could help you with that,” I say.

  
Our eyes meet. “Are you sure?”

  
“Yeah,” I say, my voice sounding a little rough. I clear my throat. “I promise I’ll be gentle.” Kal’s lips quirk up, and he shakes his head.

  
He pulls his legs up onto the bed to sit cross-legged and turns so he’s facing away from me. Perfect posture, because of course. I hop off the desk and go stand behind him. I can just barely see the top of his head.

  
I pull the braid he was working on back over his shoulder and carefully pick apart the tangle. It takes a moment since I don’t want to hurt him and I’m trying not to break any hairs, but I finally get it. I finish undoing the braid, Kal shivering as my fingers brush the back of his neck. Then I undo the remaining two.

  
As much as the squad teases Kal for looking like an elf, he really does have very nice hair. Honestly, it’s every girl’s dream. It’s so long - it falls almost to his waist now that it’s out of the braids. All the Syldrathi I’ve seen wear their hair in elaborate braids; it seems to be a staple of their culture. Like most things the Syldrathi make - from their spaceships to their architecture - they’re practical, but elegant. Still, it must be a pain to be redoing five of these all the time.

  
Once the last braid is undone, Kal moves to turn around, but I stop him with a hand on his shoulder. I’m not done with him just yet. He glances over his shoulder at me as I pick up the brush, eyebrows raised. He nods, eyes briefly flicking to mine before he turns his head back around.

  
I start to brush his hair, starting at the ends and working my way up, carefully picking apart knots and tangles when I encounter them. Sometimes I have to ask him to turn his head so I can reach the sides easier. The repetitive action is calming. For both of us, I think. While his head is turned, I can see that his eyes are closed.

  
I think back to when I used to do Callie’s hair before her practices and feel myself getting caught up in nostalgia - even though it was just a few weeks ago that I saw her. Well, a few weeks for me. Two hundred years for everybody else.

  
“I used to do this for my sister.”

  
“What was her name?”

  
“Callie. She was younger than me.”

  
“You miss her.” It doesn’t sound like a question.

  
“I miss her so much,” I say. “It’s kind of weird - we weren’t that close when we were younger. I mean, I love her - loved her - she was my sister. But in all the books I’d read, siblings were always willing to die for each other. I know this sounds really bad, but I never understood that. Not until my dad left for Octavia. Somehow, it made us closer. Now, I feel like I would do anything just to see her again.” I would do anything to see her or my parents again. That’s why it was so gut-wrenching to see my dad as one of the Ra’haam, covered in leaves and silver moss. He was right there, and I could have gone with him. But it wasn’t really my dad. I’m still searching for him.

  
Kal’s voice is gentle when he speaks. “That is how I felt when Syldra was destroyed by the Starslayer. The Syldrathi are… more formal in their customs than Terrans or Betraskans. It is difficult for us to get close to others, even among our own kind. Even so, I have found myself missing the routine. Longing for the customs, the familiarity. I am an outsider among my people because I am Warbreed, and an outsider in the Aurora Legion because I am Syldrtahi. I was beginning to believe there was no place for me anymore. I imagine you must feel the same way, out of time as you are.”

  
“That’s exactly how I feel. Everything is so different now. With all that’s happened since I woke up, I feel like I haven’t had a chance to process it yet.”

  
“We will help you,” he says. I don’t doubt him.

  
“Do you have siblings?” I ask, trying to shift to a lighter topic.

  
He doesn’t speak for a moment, and I wonder if he heard me. Finally, he says, “I have a sister.” I note the present-tense use of “have.”

  
“Really? Were you close?”

  
“No. I have not seen her in years. I hardly know a thing about her.”

  
“I’m sorry.” Well, this didn’t lighten up the mood at all. I don’t know what else to say.

  
“Do not be,” he says, not unkindly. I can tell it’s bothering him to talk about his sister, so I stop talking. Although, he didn’t shut me out like he would have a few days ago. We’re making progress.

  
By now, all the tangles are out of Kal’s hair, but I’m still idly brushing. I’ve never seen him like this. Hair down, shoulders slumped, eyes closed. I smile to myself. A tall, deadly Syldrathi warrior reduced to mush in front of me. Fin would be so jealous.

  
I set the brush down and put my hand on his shoulder. Since we’re in the Fold, everything is in various shades of grey. But I can still imagine the violet of his eyes as he looks up at me. “Auri?” he asks.

  
“Hi,” I say. I hear his breath catch as I lean down and kiss his cheek. His skin is warm.

  
“It’s late,” I murmur. “I’m gonna hit the sack, but we should do this again.”

  
He nods and swallows before answering. “I would like that. This was… nice.”

  
He looks lovely with his hair loose like this. I would tell him so, but if his ears get anymore flushed, I think he might explode. Instead, I tuck it behind his ear and tell him to get some rest.

  
I trek back to my room, yawning and stretching. It’s late, and the ship is still filled with restlessness. We’re all hurting and exhausted. We still have no idea what the next step is. There’s nothing but trouble in our future, but at least two of us aren’t as alone anymore.


End file.
